The Hunger Games - Haymitch's Games
by katiekate123
Summary: A short story I wrote for a Literature assignment covering Haymitch's time in the arena.


"Good Luck Haymitch." My stylist farewelled me for what could be the last time ever. The clear tube started to close, encasing me within and I felt the floor below the claustrophobic cell begin to lift up into the arena as the countdown began. I found myself in a sweet-scented meadow of luscious green grass, dotted with small flowers. Looking around, I was surprised by the beauty of the place, which instantly caused suspicion to arise within me. The blue sky and it's fluffy white clouds, the sound of birds chirping softly, the forest off in the distance with it's branches dancing lightly in the breeze, and the picturesque snow-capped mountain at the opposite end, it was all too beautiful for the arena.

My thoughts quickly subsided when I noticed that the countdown was nearing an end and I prepared myself to run, however many of the other tributes were still stunned by the beauty of the arena. I saw the opportunity and I took it. Whilst many of the tributes were distracted, I sped towards the cornucopia and grabbed a heavy backpack and a knife, and sprinted off towards the woods, occasionally looking back to make sure no one was behind me, but witnessing only the gruesome bloodbath occurring at the cornucopia.

I reached the edge of the woods just before the distant sound of the cannons began, each signifying a dead tribute. I counted to myself: "one, two, three, four…" There were eighteen. Eighteen dead in the initial slaughter. That left thirty tributes, including myself. I silently wondered of the tributes from my district, hoping they were still alive, then again, I didn't want to have to be the one to kill them. Exhausted from running, I concealed myself behind a bush and opened the backpack. Inside, I found a sleeping bag, two large bottles of water and a large bag of apples, it seemed strange seeing as there were plenty of fruit trees and fresh springs throughout the woods, but who was I to argue? I had a few mouthfuls of water and used my knife to cut up an apple. I was enjoying the crisp fruit until I head a scream.

Curious, I peered out from behind my bush to see four tributes fighting off a flock of candy-pink birds with skewer shaped beaks, clearly mutts. They were Careers. The two male tributes from District Two, a girl from District Four, and a girl from District One. The girl from One had fallen and the others were fighting the birds away from her as they violently stabbed at her with their beaks. They eventually took out the flock, butchering them with spears and machetes, but their efforts couldn't save her, the girl was gone, I knew it. Her skin swelled up and turned a dark purple where she'd been attacked, the delicate features of her once young and beautiful face mangled beyond recognition and her uniform torn to pieces and soaked in dark blood. The other tributes had a few similar purple lumps on their arms where they too must have been stabbed by the sharp beaks. I couldn't stop staring. Yes, her death was awful, but I felt jealousy towards her. Even now, in her deformed and bloody state, she looked more peaceful than one could ever hope for whilst being in the games. It was the sound of the cannon that snapped me back to reality, but by then it was too late. They'd seen me. The Careers came towards me, weapons at the ready. There was nowhere to run, with the bush behind me. One of the boys swung at me, but I ducked under his arm and stabbed him in the shoulder, disabling him. The other two ran at me, and I knew I couldn't fight them both at once. As the first tribute swung again, this time with his opposite arm, I grabbed him and pushed him between myself and the other two tributes. The girl tried to stop mid-swing, but failed, and her machete landed in the boy's side. She quickly pulled it out and he fell to the ground whilst the girl watched on, shocked. I saw the chance and grabbed her, swiftly slitting open her jugular. Suddenly, the remaining boy grabbed me from behind. I tried to struggle, but he held a knife to my throat. I closed my eyes, knowing that I would die. And he was gone. I looked up, confused, and saw Maysilee Donner holding a blowgun, her long blonde hair pushed out of her face by the wind and a small golden mockingjay pin poking out from the inside left of her jacket collar.

"I coated the darts in poison from a flower." She explained, "Don't you see? Everything here is poisonous. We'd be safer if we stayed together, you know. Allies?"  
She reached for my hand and helped me up. She was right, we would last longer together, and her poison theory explained the birds, as well as the backpack of water and apples. I decided to keep her around.  
"Have you had any food?" I asked her, feeling foolish for not having worked it out myself. She shook her head and I tossed her a large red apple from my backpack. We both had a few mouthfuls of water and then decided to keep moving. We walked together through the thick underbrush for a few hours before night fell. I took the sleeping bag out of my backpack and climbed inside, Maysilee offering to take the first guard shift. It seemed like only minutes later when I was woken up by a scream.

I grabbed for my knife before even looking at what was going on. Two other tributes had found us and Maysilee had already shot one with a blow dart, but the other had managed to dodge the poisonous spike. It's lucky that I'd grabbed my knife so fast, because the tribute would've slashed Maysilee's face open had I not thrown the blade so quickly. It sunk into the arm of the tribute and she let out a cry. The distraction was just enough for Maysilee to shoot a blow dart, which embedded itself in the tribute's side. I took my blood-soaked knife from the arm of the dead girl and washed it in a nearby spring. As Maysilee pointed out, my knife was now coated in the deadly poison of the spring water, which meant a far speedier death for anyone I stabbed. This was good, I didn't want anyone to suffer. We decided to continue on our way, as our encounter had probably alerted others to our whereabouts, and from that moment on, I slept with a blade in my hand.

For some reason, of which I wasn't entirely sure, I wanted to reach the edge of the arena. In fact, I didn't just want it, I needed it. I felt as though by getting there I would find a crucial answer to an unasked question. I felt as though I needed to get there to survive. But Maysilee was tired, so after we were a fairway from our original position, I let her sleep for a few hours before waking her to continue our trek.  
"We have to keep moving." I told her.  
"But why?"  
"I want to reach the edge of the arena. I don't know why."  
"There's nothing there, Haymitch."  
"I know, but we have to go there."  
Probably realising that I couldn't be reasoned with, Maysilee gave up and we carried on. We took turns carrying the heavy backpack and guarding the other whilst they slept. Three days later, we reached the edge, a large, bottomless ravine surrounded us.  
"I told you, Haymitch. There's nothing here. Now there's only five tributes left. I don't want it to come down to us. I have to go." I didn't want her to go, but she was right. I didn't want to kill her. I watched her go then kicked a small rock into the ravine in frustration and it bounced straight back. Fascinated, I threw a larger rock, which also bounced back. I don't know why I was so excited about the force field, but I let out a hysterical laugh, which was interrupted my Maysilee's unmistakeable scream.

Running to the source of the sound, I saw Maysilee in a small clearance being attacked by another flock of the candy pink birds, which were skewering her repeatedly in her face, neck and torso. I wanted to run to her and protect her, but that would only mean my death as well. I stood behind a tree watching helplessly until the birds left, it was too horrible to watch but I couldn't look away. The birds flew away leaving Maysilee lying on the ground, swollen and bruised, barely conscious. I ran to her, knowing there was nothing else I could do for her, and held her hand as she died. She exhausted the last of her energy in telling me to take the mockingjay pin to her family. I brushed her bloodstained hair out of her eyes and placed a few flowers around her before gently taking the mockingjay pin from her jacket and closing her eyes. I stood up just in time to see the remaining female from One staring at me and holding an axe, obviously she too had heard Maysilee's scream. Suddenly, I had an idea. I turned my back and ran to the force field and stood up against it as closely as possible. Shortly after the tribute appeared out of the trees with a crazed look in her eye, her axe covered in blood, suggesting that she may have already killed a tribute or two. Could we be the last ones left? She ran towards me and swung, predicting her move I stepped to the side. The axe hit the force field with all her force behind it. Just as it had done with the rock, the force field repelled the axe, which bounced back and hit her face. I got down beside her, witnessing the blood pouring from the huge gash where the axe stuck out of her face. I got out my knife and stabbed it into her heart, ending her life. Her disfigured face relaxed and the cannon sounded. The next thing I heard was the voice of Claudius Templesmith, declaring me the winner of the 50th annual hunger games. I could no longer see the arena as beautiful. I'd won, but I'd never been more unhappy.


End file.
